


This Feels Like Falling In Love

by acciothirteen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2225796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciothirteen/pseuds/acciothirteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco can't exactly pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Mario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Marco can't exactly pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Mario.

Maybe it was the first time they met. Marco was so excited but nervous and extremely overwhelmed. And then he saw him. Mario Götze, smiled so brightly it had put the sun to shame. They shook hands. Marco liked how their hands fit.

Or maybe it was their first training together. The coaches had them paired up for the warm-up. Marco can't recall what Mario joked about - but it was super lame but they laughed anyway. Marco had never heard anything more beautiful than the sound of their laughter together. He looked at how the younger man's eyes crinkles and how he smiled shyly when they made eye contact.

They were inseparable ever since.

Their first game went alright. He even scored against Werder Bremen. He still remembered the rush of adrenaline, and how Mario approached him once the victory was announced and they were getting ready to take a shower.

"You were great!" Mario said excitedly. He high-fived the older man and ruffles his hair. Marco was blushing furiously and he's glad no one was around to see him grinning like an idiot.

Mario began to visit him regularly after that. Sometimes he would just popped up unannounced, wearing t-shirts and shorts, holding boxes of DVDs and smiled. 

"You up for a Star Wars marathon?" he asked one day. And Marco had never been able to resist those pouty lips and his damn puppy eyes, so he let the striker in.

They ended up falling asleep on the couch. Well, Mario fell asleep on Marco. Marco looked at him, how his long eyelashes flutters as he dreamed. His lips slightly opened as he mumbled in his sleep. Marco absentmindedly ran his hand along Mario's hair, now and then ghosting on his face.

"I love you."

That was the first time he said it out loud.

He repeated that often, every time Mario came over to his house and ended up staying the night, he would say that quietly to the sleeping figure. He never said it directly - too many things were at stake. He can't lose Mario. He  _can't_ . He'd rather suffered the view of the man he loves in the arms of another woman.

When Ann-Kathrin came into the picture, things changed. It was normal, of course - the girl is always first priority. But Marco told himself that it was enough. It was enough seeing him at practice (he never came over anymore). It was enough watching him laugh and crack jokes with the other guys. It was enough hugging him whenever their team scores. It was enough loving him from afar.

It was enough until it wasn't.

Eventually they drove apart. Marco was pulling away, trying to piece himself together - and failing horribly at that. He was so far gone and now he's lost. He can't look at Mario without repressing the urge to kiss him, he can't look at how happy Ann-Kathrin made him without wanting to scream in agony.

But loving someone means sacrificing your own personal feelings and watch them be happy. Even if it means you're slowly dying on the inside. Marco heart aches every time he sees Mario.

They could've been so much.

Mats hosted a party one night. Guys only - no girls allowed. By the end of the evening everyone was really, really drunk. Marco is one of the designated driver, so he only had a couple beers.

Mario on the other hand - he can't really hold his liquor and the guys always made him drink as much as he possibly can. Needless to say he was shit-faced drunk when Marco dragged him over to his car.

Marco drive as fast as he could to Mario's house. It was a freaking miracle that his best friend didn't threw up on his car. He's thankful for that.

Marco undid the younger man's seat belt and half-carry him inside the house. He pulled out the spare key Mario gave him a long time ago. He had to concentrate unlocking the door, because having Mario leaning on him, his face so close to Marco's, lips slightly red and very, very inviting.

He managed to open the door right in time and drag Mario into his bedroom. The house was empty. There were some moving boxes on the hallway but Marco is too distracted to think about it.

He gently lay his friend on to the bed, took off his shoes, and tuck him in.

He was about to leave when Mario called for him.

"Marco." His voice is barely a whisper but it brings shivers down Marco's spine.

"Yeah, Pummelfee. What is it?" Marco answered.

Mario pouts. "I told you not to call me that."

"Alright, Sunshine." Marco chuckled. "What do you want?"

"Stay."


	2. Chapter 2

Mario woke up with the worst case of hangover he had ever have.

His head was pounding and his mouth tastes disgusting. He groaned as he tried to sit up in his bed. He felt a stir next to him and he look down to see Marco, his beautiful Marco sleeping next to him. He didn't realize that Marco's hand were draped on his chest and now it has fallen to his thighs. Mario smiled and brought his hands to Marco's hair and lightly caressed him.

He scarcely remembered last night - how Marco kept looking at him with those beautiful hazel eyes, but his expression were sad. Mario had afraid to asked, so he drank and he drank, the guys cheered on as he did so. He remembered Marco putting his arms around him, carried him to his car. He remembered asking Marco to stay. And he did. Would he still do that, if Mario had told him about _it?_

When they made the offer, Mario thought long and hard. He knew how it would effect the team, how it would effect the fans. He called his parents and talked about them for hours. He also talked with Ann-Kathrin about it, and she just smiled and kissed him and said, "Whatever you want to do, I'll be with you, every step of the way." There wasn't a lot of talking afterwards.

He didn't talk to Marco, though.

Something changed between them, he didn't know what it was. Only that it was drastic and push them apart. He misses his best friend. He misses doing stupid pranks against the guys - misses the time when it was them against the world.

Over the months, Marco got more and more quiet - around him, anyway. He had over-analyzed everything, had he done something wrong? When he asked this to Marco, he just answered with the ever-present sad smile on his face and said, "No, Sunshine. Never."

Eventually he stopped asking. He didn't come over to his apartment anymore. It was like Marco was looking at a ghost when he saw him.

They pretended everything was fine. They still celebrate the way they do after one of them scored a goal, after the team won. When they hugged, he can feel them sharing their body heat, how both of them reluctant to let go. But they did. He had felt miserable as soon as they let go, a sense of longing haunts him.

Looking at them now, Mario can't help but smile a little bit. His light caresses reached Marco's temple and he looked down to see hazel eyes staring back at him. He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize that the older man was awake, eyes bright and loving, like it was back in the day.

"Good morning, Pummelfee," Marco whispered, a hint of smile on his lips.

"I thought I've told you  _not_  to call me that," Mario said dryly in reply.

"I know, I'm sorry, couldn't help it." Marco lets out a low chuckle.

Mario smiled at him and playfully ruffles his best friend's hair.

"Let's go get some breakfast."

 

***

Marco made pancakes for the both of them. It's as delicious as he remembered it being. God, he missed this.

They're sprawled on the couch, playing FIFA - Mario sucked at it, but it makes Marco happy, so what the hell. He needs Marco in his best mood before he delivers the news.

After Marco wins his fourth game, Mario get beers for the both of them. They cheered and chugged, Mario drinks more than he probably should, given the state that he was in. Marco told him as much.

He put down the beer and face his best friend.

"Marco, I need to tell you something," he started. He can see the way Marco's shoulder tensed.

"Alright, shoot."

 

Mario took a deep breath.

 

"I'm leaving."

 

Marco froze.

"Mario, stop messing around," Marco said nervously. "This isn't funny."

Mario fidgeted with his hands. "I'm serious, Marco. I'm leaving. They're gonna announce it in a couple of days, and I just - I wanna give you a head's up."

Marco stared at him in disbelief. He started to pace around the room. "Which team?" He mumbled.

"Bayern."

A strangled sound escaped Marco's throat. "Bayern? Really, Mario? It's bad enough that you're leaving - but _them_?"

"Look, I thought about it for a long time, okay? I talked to everyone and I've made my decision." Mario threw his hand in the air, frustrated.

"You didn't talk to me," Marco said quietly.

"Oh that's rich coming from you," Mario spat, a sudden wave of anger boils inside his chest. "You've been avoiding me for months. Did you really think that I wouldn't notice?"

"That's different," Marco dodged.

"How is that different, exactly? Please, enlightened me," Mario said sharply.

The look that Marco throw at him makes his heart aches. He looks so miserable and lost - the heartache is evident in his eyes.

"I can't. Please, Mario -" Marco sobbed, tears slowly falling onto his cheeks.

He sank down to the couch and bury his face in his hands. Mario hesitantly reached out to hold his best friend. He put a comforting hand on Marco's shoulder and pulled him close.

"It's nothing personal, Mar, I just-" He ran his fingers through his hair. "When they made the offer, I almost couldn't believe it. And they said that Pep Guardiola himself wanted me to join the club, and I - I can't say no. It's a career choice, not a personal one," Mario concludes.

Marco turned to look at him. The sadness is gone, replaced by anger. The only trace of sadness that the younger man can see is the fact that his eyes are rimmed red.

"And do you think we're not good enough?" Marco snapped.

"It's not that, Marco," Mario answered, his own tears threatening to spilled out.

"You know what, screw it. Go, stay - I don't care. You can do whatever the fuck you like. Hell, transfer to Madrid, for all I care."

Marco gathered all his things and head out to the door.

"Marco! Marco, wait! Please we can talk about this-"

 

Marco slammed the door in his face.


	3. Chapter 3

When he slammed the door, it took all of the self-control he can muster to get him to his car.

After he's safe inside the car, he locked the door and started to cry.

He fucked up.

He should've seen the signs, for God's sake. The hushed whispers on the hallway, the meetings after practice, the way that Mario seemed to avoid him. He was so caught up in trying to ignore his feelings that he was pushing Mario away.

He start the car and drive as fast as he could. He didn't even realize where he was headed until he stopped at a familiar building. He get out of the car, ran inside the building and knocked on the door.

"Marco?" Mats asked when he opened the door.

"I need to - can we talk?" Marco said, his hands trembling.

"Sure, yeah, come in." Mats stepped back and let his friend in.

Marco immediately walked straight into the sofa. He sat and bury his head on his hands and started to sob. Mats sat next to him and patted him awkwardly on the back.

"Talk to me," he said calmly.

It took Marco a few try to form an actual sentence.

"Mario's leaving for Bayern," he finally choked out. Mats put a hand around his friend's shoulder and hold him.

"I know." Marco pushed him away so that he can look the defender in the eye.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I only found out last night. Kloppo called me," he answered. "He told me because Mario said that he was going to tell you in person. Kloppo was concerned about how you're gonna take the news, and he figured that you're gonna come to me for comfort and here we are."

Marco took a couple of seconds to let the information sink in. Eventually, he just leaned back to the couch and rest his head on the crook of Mats' neck.

"I've said some things," Marco mumbled. "He hates me now."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," Mats snorted. "You two are attached to the hips. You can't be mad at each other for more that an hour. I know, I've checked."

"There's something else, though." Marco didn't know what possessed him to say that but he did anyway.

"Something like what?"

 

"I, uh - I think I'm in love with Mario."

 

When he said that out loud, he felt huge relief washing over him. And it feels right, saying those words to another human being, instead of whispering it into the dead of night. He enjoyed a moment of peaceful quiet before Mats snorted.

"Yeah, no shit."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no shit, Sherlock. I've figured that much on my own."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Lewy, Kevin, Erik, the entire population of mankind."

"But how did you-"

"Look it was obvious, the way you look at him when you think no one notices, or the way your touch lingers on him...you're so far gone."

Marco sighed. "I've been trying to ignore it, but every time I see him, it's like - I don't know, man - butterflies in my stomach or some corny shit like that."

"Have you tell him?"

Marco look at his teammate like he had grown a second head. "No, of course not! Are you insane? He's got a girlfriend and they're happy together and what kind of friend I'll be if I were to say 'Hey, Mario, that was a good game! Oh, and by the way, I think I'm in love with you' ?"

"You don't have to phrase it like that." Mats rolled his eyes. "But he's leaving soon, and you'll regret it if you don't."

"But Mats, I can't just-"

"Marco, listen to me. If you love him, man up and go tell him, or let him go. So what's it gonna be?"

 

"I'll let him go."

 

***

 

Marco paced around on his living room, ignoring his phone which rings every few minutes.

It's him.

He's been ignoring Mario's phone call, thinking about what to say, how the other person would react. It was driving him nuts.

He walked to the kitchen and opened his six or seven bottle of beer and started to drink.

And that's when he saw it.

The box. His Mario box.

Marco left the beer on the counter and took the box from his bookcase.

He almost forgot about this.

When he came back to Dortmund, his sisters forced him to keep every single memorabilia. He did it nonetheless, but after he met Mario, his world started to orbited around the younger man, and he kept everything.

The ticket to their first game.

The wrapper of Mario's favorite candy.

The label of his favorite drink.

And most importantly, the polaroids.

Marco was obsessed with old cameras. Mario had gave him a polaroid camera for his birthday. And since then he always took pictures, of the stadium, his teammates, his family, and Mario. He kept a date and a caption. He never showed anyone that.

Mostly because all of Mario's caption are _'Liebe'_ , followed by a drawing of sunshine. God, when did he turned into a 12-year-old girl?

 

_"Are you gonna tell him or are you gonna let him go?"_

 

"I'm gonna tell him," Marco muttered to himself.

 

He disappeared into his bedroom. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize beforehand for the amount of cliches that I'm showering you in this chapter.

Mario's phone rings out early in the morning.

He glanced at the clock before sleepily answered his phone.

"Yeah?"

"Is this Mario Götze?" the person said from the other side of the line. She sounded stiff and official.

"Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Kristen Michelsen from the Dortmund Police Department. Are you Marco Reus' emergency contact?"

He stopped breathing. "Marco? Yes, what happened to him?" he said, his voice cracked at the end.

"There's been an accident, could you please come down to the hospital?"

Everything after that was a blur.

He took note of the hospital address, including the room number. He put on pants and the closest t-shirt he can grab. He didn't realize until much, much later that the shirt was Marco's.

He took his keys and ran to the door.

 

***

 

When the nurse walked him to Marco's room, he almost passed out.

Laying on the bed, was his best friend, covered in bruises, a bandage on his forehead and several more on his arms and legs. He walked up to Marco, his legs almost gave up when he see his best friend up close.

"We're trying to keep him comfortable," the nurse said quietly. "We still don't know what to expect. His head was badly injured, and-"

"Please, stop," Mario whispered. He's still staring at Marco's face. Tears started to form in his eyes.

"Have you called his parents yet?" he said, louder this time.

"Yes. They're out of town so it might take them a couple hours."

Mario nods and took Marco's hand in his own. "Could you leave us alone, please?" he said.

"Of course. Just press the button if you need me," she said politely, gesturing to the nurse button next to the bed. "His personal effects are on the table."

"Thank you," Mario said and gave her a weak smile.

As she closes the door, Mario's eyes travel to his best friend's face. His hair is still Marco's trademark messy. He smiles at that. He glanced at the table of Marco's things and something caught his eye.

He gently dropped Marco's hand and walk to the table.

It's a gift. Clumsily wrapped, in a true Marco style. "Why wrap a gift when you're just gonna tear up the wrapper the second you got it?" was his excuse.

There was some blood on the gift wrapper and it made him queasy. And then he saw it. A card, attached to the gift, thankfully blood-free. It got his name on it. It was Marco's messy handwriting. He glanced at his best friend's unmoving body and slowly opened the gift.

It's a photo album. Filled with pictures of them, and the team. It was dated, and all have captions of where the photo was taken.

He found himself smiling as he flip through the pages.

Then something changed.

His photos become more and more frequent.

His captions are smiley faces and drawings of the sun.

And on the last page there's 2 photos.

The first one is him, on Marco's birthday party. He remembered because Marco insisted on him wearing those ridiculous party hat that Kevin brought. When he read the caption, his heart skipped a beat.

 _'_ _Liebe'_ it read. Accompanied by a drawing of the sun.

The second one is a photo of them, after they had won a match. It was taken by Marco on Mats' balcony. Both of them had look happy, and content. It was the last time they were happy, before Marco started to push him away. He looked at the caption and a single tear escaped from his eyes.

 

'Me and everything I've ever wanted in this world.'

 

He lets out a choked sob.

 

"I made that for you."

 

He turn around so fast that his hips banged the table.

Marco was looking at him, his breathing was ragged and his eyes are hazy, but there's a smile playing on his lips.

"I made that for you, as a going-away present. And also to say that I'm sorry for being an idiot," he said, his voice was hoarse and shaky.

Mario walked towards him, clutching the album to his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mario whispered, tears started to pour in his face.

"I thought I could make it go away, Sunny. You were so happy with her, and I don't want to take that away."

Mario reached his best friend and intertwined their fingers.

 

"Tell me."

 

"I love you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I was itching to write some Götzeus so voila, here we are.  
> And there will be more chapter of this I promise. And like, an actual chapter.
> 
> Sorry I haven't posted anything this week but I've been caught up with school works and group projects that I had to do by myself (yeah, looking at you, shitty classmates)
> 
> But on a lighter note, I HAVE A [BLOG!](http://acciothirteen.tumblr.com/)  
> Go send me prompts and I will do my best to fulfill them.
> 
> This was meant to be a oneshot but it's 1 am and I really need to sleep.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
